


A modern milkbottle

by nightbloomingcereus



Series: Name That Author prompt fills [9]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crack, Fix-It, Humor, Milk And Cookies, Milkbottle lives, Other, excessive personification of inanimate objects, extreme prejudice against condensed milk, long live Major Milkbottle, serving in the trenche(r)s at tea time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27234262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbloomingcereus/pseuds/nightbloomingcereus
Summary: Witchfinder Major Milkbottle has finally returned.  But there have been some changes in the Witchfinder Army since he was last on active duty.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Witchfinder Major Milkbottle & Sergeant Shadwell (Good Omens), Witchfinder Major Milkbottle/OC
Series: Name That Author prompt fills [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737703
Comments: 13
Kudos: 29
Collections: GO-events NTA #9 - Milkbottle After Dark





	A modern milkbottle

**Author's Note:**

> Written for NTA #9 (Milkbottle) on the GO-events server. There were ZERO fics tagged with Major Milkbottle prior to this event, and I couldn't let that stand.

Witchfinder Major Milkbottle was furious. He'd been _replaced._ Here he was, a decorated[1] officer who'd been shattered heroically in the line of duty. And now that he had finally been restored to his former glory (how, he wasn't quite sure, although it had something to do with someone named Adam, or possibly Wensleydale; the latter made more sense, as you couldn't make cheese without milk), only to find that the Sergeant had promoted that little upstart, Lieutenant Condensed Milk, to Major! 

This could not stand. Everyone knew that Condensed Milk, who was gloopy and rather dense, was only even _in_ the officer ranks because of his uncle, Major Tin. Nepotism at its finest. At the time of Milkbottle's previous demise, Condensed Milk had only been merely a reserve officer, in Major Cupboard's battalion. And now here he was, putting on airs, going on about how he was getting cozy with _nine sugars_.

Milkbottle's old war buddy, Major Saucepan, was sympathetic. (He'd never really gotten on with Majors Tin or Cupboard.) Together they hatched a plan, and when tea time rolled around, they were ready to put it into action.

Moments before Sergeant Shadwell stepped into the kitchen to fetch the tea things, there was a loud thud, as of something heavy falling off a high shelf. 

(Condensed Milk was only a bit dented in metal and ego. It would build character. Having been deceased once himself, Milkbottle did not wish that upon anyone, not even little upstart preservative-laden tinned goods.)

"Most sorry, sir," said Major Saucepan. "Condensed Milk seems to be feeling a bit under the weather today. But look who has returned!"

Major Milkbottle stepped forward, saluting sharply.

"Major!" cried Shadwell, slapping him heartily on the glass. "Never thought I'd see ye again, laddie!"

Tea time was eye-opening. The Sergeant had shacked up with his Jezebel. The new recruit, Private Pulsifer, had apparently already found himself a witch and was making eyes at her so goopy they put Condensed Milk to shame. Even gruff, grumpy Private Toothbrush[2] seemed to have found a partner.

There was to be no more nipple-counting or pin-sticking without prior consent. 

(Some things never changed though. The Sergeant was already making plans to take up a collection for Condensed Milk's rehabilitation fund.)

These changes were, he decided, for the best. It was a brave new world after all, and he was nothing if not a modern milkbottle. 

And perhaps not _all_ of Major Tin's relations were so odious. Lieutenant Biscuit Tin stood nervously at attention at the end of the ranks. He was a rather fetching shade of blush, sprinkled with yellow flowers, and undoubtedly filled with rich, buttery biscuits.

"Hello, soldier," he said, sidling up beside the Lieutenant. "Fancy a dip in some milk?"

* * *

[1]Gold Medal, 1967 British Dairy Expo.return to text

[2]Being in the Sergeant's dental corps was enough to make anyone surly. The Private had seen some horrors in his day.return to text


End file.
